Help
by TheNextSunrise
Summary: "The kidnapping of Sarah Elessarwen was ridiculously easier than had been expected." Rated for mature content. Based on Dithinus' series. R&R
1. Chapter 1

***bangs head* Yet another Weird Day fic. I'm obsessed with this thing, I tell ya. OK, so this is for my favorite pairing, Sarah/Soromir. Pretty dark and angsty, VERY AU. Please review?**

**_WARNING! PLEASE READ!:_ This _will_ contain mature content. If that's not your thing, then just skip it. No bitching about it!**

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The kidnapping of Sarah Elessarwen was ridiculously easier than had been expected.

The plan was executed flawlessly. As she left the White City for another hunt, all they needed to do was follow her and drug her from behind. When she awoke, she was chained to the wall of a little-used cell without her magic or precious Jumping.

For most involved, it was a pleasure to put her into her rightful place. For Soromir son of Meglidur, it was necessary. Of course, he could never tell his authorities that. He would never tell them how, as they treated him as their pawn, he was amassing his own force to take control of their 'noble cause'. He would never tell them of how, when his last contact in his former country's noble capital told him what she knew, that he had immediately moved into action. He would never tell them about what plans he _really_ had for his former friend and ally. No, no, all of his ambitions were privy to only him himself...

The game was set, now all that was left was to set it into motion.

.

Sarah groaned as she slowly came to, blinking away the multicolored spots of fatigue that danced before her eyes. She realized that she was still in the cell she had woken up in earlier. How long had she been there? From the dull pain, it was more than twelve hours. She remembered dully waking up and eagerly gulping down the lone loaf of bread suspiciously placed in the center of the cell, just within her reach.

_Stupid, stupid Sarah!_ She chastised herself._ Never ever ever EVER eat the suspicious-looking bread!_

She grimaced to herself and tried to Jump, but again, the power slipped away from her. She snarled with frustration as she tried and tried again, to no avail; she hated being powerless.

Before she could formulate a plan, the locks in her door slid out of place, and her eyes snapped up as the door opened. The lights blinded her for a moment as two large, burly men that smelled like stables walked through the doorway. The chains were undone and she was dragged up. "On your feet, _princess._" He snarled, and she wrenched away before spitting in his face. His face contorted with rage, and he brought back his hand to strike her as the other man grabbed her from behind when a fluid, lazy voice spoke.

"Don't."

All three froze and turned back to the doorway. A tall, thin man stood like a rain in the doorway. His gaunt face was as pale as snow, the exact opposite of his jet black hair that formed a neatly trimmed beard and shoulder-length hair tied back. He smiled slightly and bowed his head to Sarah as she glared at him suspiciously. "Sarah Elessarwen, we meet at last. I am Caligo, I am in command of these barbarians."

"Very nice to meet you." She said sarcastically. "Now, would you mind telling me where I am and just _why_ I am here?"

He smiled again. "If you would come with me." He said, motioning for her to walk in front of him. She yanked her arm out of the second man's grip and cautiously walked out of the cell, massaging her sore wrists. He continued to smile, though his beetle-black eyes examined her coldly and watched her every move. She considered fighting her way out, then decided against it. The guy looked like he could kill her easily. He led her through old stone corridors, deeper and deeper into wherever-the-hell-she-was. She smelled Orc everywhere. He stopped in front of a heavy wooden door made of dark wood and black metal. He knocked on it, and an irritated voice answered.

"Enter."

The door swung open, and Caligo ushered her inside before closing the door behind her. She stared at it, panic starting to beat in her chest, then she froze as the voice spoke again, chillingly familiar.

"My friend. It has been so long."

She spun around and gasped. A man was leaning over a large table spread with maps and papers, most weighed down with rocks or small candles. The man himself looked like a beast, his familiar face twisted with amusement at her shock, rage and horror.

"Soromir." She said quietly.

He nodded. "Indeed I am." He said with another smirk. He grandly swept out an arm at the rooms, which were obviously his chambers. "Welcome to my humble abode."

"Why am I here?" She demanded coldly, a lump of emotions she didn't quite know what to do with welling in her throat. This man was her worst enemy, and yet, some time ago, they had been the closest friends you could imagine. She shook off her nostalgia and steeled herself, crossing her arms. "You and I have nothing to discuss."

He raised his eyebrow. "Obviously we do. And I brought you here to simply... _congratulate_ you."

A chill ran down her spine. _He couldn't know._ She thought. _He couldn't. No one else does! _"What do you mean?" She bluffed.

"You know damned well what I mean." His eyes were trained on her like a predator, pinning his prey in place. He slowly walked towards her from behind the table, and she backed up until she was against the door, panic and fear ripping through her, making her dumb and irrational. He smirked as he ran the back of his hand over her cheek. Chills racked her body at the touch and the look in his eyes. "How could I allow you to go off without giving you a goodbye gift?" He said in a low voice that, if nothing else, told her his intentions.

She put her hands on his chest and pushed, trying to run away, only to be caught and thrown back against the wall with a flash of pain. "Where are you going in such a rush, my friend?" He asked mockingly, and she screamed with panic and tried to break away again. This time she managed to strike at his face, even if it was a feeble strike, an accident really. But she froze at his reaction.

His face contorted with rage, and he struck her as hard as he could. She fell to the ground with a cry and a crash, knocking over a tall rack. He grabbed her roughly and dragged her back up before striking her again, shaking her shoulders as tears began to well in her eyes. "You will love me as I have loved you!" He roared before throwing her towards the other rooms. And though she screamed, no help came.


	2. Chapter 2

**Wow, got this one out fast. Merry Christmas! Reviews please?**

**.**

In Gondor's capital, Elly was preparing to rip her hair out with frustration.

"What do you _mean_, you have 'no idea'?" She demanded. "Dammit, Onomir, you're supposed to _protect_ her!"

"They were on her before we could catch up with them." Onomir said. "We can't know where they are now, they were gone in seconds."

She let out a frustrated sound and dropped into a chair. "God damn it." She muttered. "And Murtagh, stop that, you're driving me crazy!"

Murtagh shook his head shortly and continued to pace in his secluded area, away from the others. He was fuming inwardly, frustration and concern tearing him apart. He knew that this was his fault; somehow, it was. If it wasn't, it was that damned Harad prince's fault.

The heir to Harad was looking for a wife, since he couldn't ascend to the throne without one, and it was being said that while he would take any woman he could get, he was 'looking for a chance to strengthen alliances between Gondor and Harad'. In a flurry of snap decisions, Sarah and Murtagh agreed to stage a relationship, to be 'revealed' in a few days. Only Aragorn, Anna and Elly knew about it at this point. But he was sure that this had something to do with it.

Anna put a hand on his shoulder and hugged him quickly. "I know you're worried." She said. "But she'll be alright. We've known her for years, remember?"

.

Sarah curled into a tight ball as the door to her cell was closed again, submerging her in darkness. She held the sheet she had grabbed to cover herself around her as she clenched her eyes shut to try and keep out her tears. It did nothing to stop them, and she hid her face in her knees to muffle her sobs. Her wrists were chaffed and raw, and pain dully throbbed through her entire being. She wanted to die – she didn't care about anything else, she wanted to die and get away.

_God, why is this happening?_ She asked.

She slept for a bit. Food appeared again, and she hungrily devoured it before sleeping again. She didn't have the will to fight anymore.

Caligo was watching from outside the door, silently observing the once-proud woman. Her dignity and spitfire nature was famous, and yet here she was, broken beyond repair, tears carving trails down her face. _Women._ He thought with disgust, shaking his head before turning on his heel and going back to his master's rooms.

Soromir had become reclusive lately. Many speculated about the reason, but Caligo knew that it was because of their plan. The manservant had jumped on the offer of a better future the instant it was given by the Gondorian. Today, the plan would be set into motion.

He walked in without knocking, bowing his head respectfully. Soromir was seated at the table, where he was lazily carving something with an exotic-looking dagger. His expression was dark and brooding, clouded over with things that Caligo couldn't quite name. Soromir glanced up at him, then looked back to his carving. "Any change?" He asked.

He shook his head. "She cries, she eats, she sleeps. Nothing else."

He laughed shortly. "I expected more." He said, before standing. "I expect you are ready?"

"Of course, Lord."

He glanced at the carving, then steeled his face and took his sword from the wall. "Take this." He said, tossing another sword to Caligo. The servant caught it effortlessly, examining the thin blade. It was crying to be taken from its sheath, to embed itself in flesh and bathe its length in blood. It was perfect for him. Soromir smiled slightly, then put his hand on his ally's shoulder. "My friend, what we are about to do... if we fail, we will both be killed. Are you sure you want to do this?"

"Of course." He answered immediately, bowing his head. "My life is yours for the taking, Lord."

Another smile was given, and the two drew their swords. They nodded, and the game began.

.

She woke to screams.

She sat bolt upright, scrambling over to the door. She crawled to her feet and looked through the grate, then gasped and jumped back as a Death Eater was flung against the door, gurgling as blood rose to its lips. A massacre was going on outside the cells, and throughout the entire base. She backed against the wall, her heart thudding as someone started to jiggle the lock. There was a loud curse, then a small explosion. She covered her face as the door groaned open, to reveal Caligo standing with a long, blood-soaked sword drawn.

"Come on." He snarled, grabbing her arm and yanking her out of the cell.

He dragged her through the cramped halls of the prison cells, occasionally passing the mutilated corpse of a Death Eater or Mummy Crony. Upstairs, the final stages of the coup were being exercised. The only remaining barrier between Soromir and complete control was gasping for breath, weakly trying to reach some kind of weapon. Soromir kicked the only one away and stood above the last living man.

"You will not get away with this," He choked out.

Soromir's eyes flashed with hate, and the explosion of a gun filled the room. "I believe that I have." He said coldly, then stepped over the corpse and leaving the room. He walked down the halls, past the dead bodies he paid no heed, until he reached a locked door watched over by a few defectors and Caligo. They nodded and let him pass, and he entered a lavish series of chambers.

Sarah had been thrown into this room and been told to 'prepare'. She had no idea what to prepare for, but she saw clean clothes hanging in a wardrobe and sprung on the nearest dress. Next to the wardrobe was a tray with a glass of wine and a plate of food. She shuddered at the good taste of meat as she tried to eat and dress at the same time, finally focusing on lacing up the back. She looked into the mirror and didn't even recognize herself. Her hair was hanging limply around her pale face. Bruises were already coming out against the skin. She slowly reached up a hand to touch them.

It was during this time that the doors open, and Soromir entered, his eyes immediately finding her. She braced herself and turned to face him, steeling her face. Instead of more demands, more abuse, he looked relieved. "You're safe." He said.

"No, I'm not." She said softly. Another time, she would have launched into a profane rant about why he was keeping her there and… doing the things he was. Now, she didn't even have the will to raise her voice.

He sighed and clasped his hands behind his back, slowly walking around the room. "What do you make of them?" He asked, gesturing to the rooms around them.

She looked around, then shrugged. "They're nice."

He nodded. "They are yours. For as long as you are here."

"And how long will that be?"

His dark, silent look was answer enough for her.

"You can't." She said. "I… you _can't._"

"I can and I will." He was in front of her again, towering over her. He pulled a strand of hair from in front of her face… almost tenderly. "While you may not leave here," He said softly. "I will not force you to… _do_ things anymore. I acted rashly, though I do not apologize."

She turned her back to him. "I have nothing to discuss with you." She said sharply, clenching her eyes shut and bracing herself.

He sighed. "As you wish." He said softly. He slowly raised up a hand, like he was going to touch her shoulder, then lowered his hand and walked away. As soon as the door thudded closed, she let out the breath she had been holding, covering her mouth and shaking.

She finally composed herself and stared at the food. Hesitantly, she picked up the bowl of beef stew and took a long sip. The warm broth filled her comfortingly, and as soon as she finished, she crawled onto the soft bed in the other room and fell asleep.

.

**Yeah, yeah, I know. Sucks, doesn't it? Anyway, this is Murtagh/Sarah/Soromir. I like S/S myself, but whatever, people have their preferences. Once again, reviews?**


	3. Chapter 3

"Murtagh, I'm telling you," Raina said sternly. "If you don't stop, you will make yourself ill."

"I don't care." He said, brushing off the child's hand on his arm.

"No, stop-!" He continued to stalk down the roads of Minas Tirith, and she followed him, trying to get him to turn around. "Please! Listen to me!" She clenched her eyes shut. "_She_ wouldn't want you to do this!"

He stopped, and she took the chance and continued. "Sarah would want you to be safe and healthy. She would want to break out on her own."

He turned to face the young girl. But even though she was young, she could see the raw emotion in his eyes. "How can you know?" he whispered; so softly she wouldn't have heard it if the city hadn't been asleep.

"I know because I've known her since I was just a little girl." She said. "Please, my Lord… rest. She can save herself."

He stared at her for a moment, then sighed and bowed his head. True, he had been up for days without sleep as he had searched for some way to find _her,_ but he was driven by the need to find her. _Find her. Keep her safe. Kill the ones who dared touch her._

"Alright." He said.

Raina smiled and bowed her head, and he slightly smiled in return, patting her head before going to the Citadel. There, he frowned to see Aragorn at the long council table at the far end of the hall with his military advisors. He quickened his pace, and Aragorn only glanced up at him before motioning for two advisors to move aside and make room for him. "What's going on?" He asked.

Aragorn sighed and ran a hand through his hair. "The entire royal family of Harad has been assassinated." He said. "The killers exterminated the rest of the people in line for the throne as well. They're calling themselves the Servants of the High Lord."

He frowned. "Who?"

"I have no idea. They've just risen out of nowhere."

"Why would they kill Harad's royal family?"

He shrugged. "Power? Resources?"

An advisor shook his head. He looked older than the White Tree out front. "Harad hardly has any resources. They've always traded with either us or Khand."

He was silent, staring at the maps and panicked reports from the Gondorian ambassador that used to be stationed in Harad's capital. "Why now?" He muttered.

.

Sarah opened her eyes and stared at the ceiling of her new rooms. She sat up and looked around; there was the bedchamber, as well as a door that led to the front room and a restroom. The bedroom had a large wardrobe with beautiful clothes in it that normally she wouldn't touch. She got up and walked to the front room. Chairs were seated around a small fireplace, lamps on the wall sending a warm light over the room. A tray of food was set on a table in front of the chairs, which she didn't touch.

She opened another door, then gasped and covered her mouth. It was a small library, each shelf filled with books and tomes and scrolls. A desk sat in the only shelf-less area, made of a dark, beautiful wood. She touched it with trembling fingers, amazed at it.

She heard a knock at the door and spun around. Slowly, she walked towards it and opened the door to the hall. Caligo was standing with a small figure behind him. The figure had her head bowed in defeat, her ratty black hair hanging down in front of her face. Sarah's heart lurched at the sight of the chains on her wrists and the filthy, ratty old dress.

Caligo smiled tightly and yanked the girl forward. "A gift from Lord Soromir." He said. The girl looked up submissively, her brown eyes almost dead.

"Let her go." Sarah whispered.

Caligo shrugged and waved a hand over the chains, which immediately unlocked and fell to the ground. "She is your slave." He said indifferently. Sarah took the girl's arm and gently guided her inside while she glared at Caligo. He smiled again and closed the door.

Sarah turned to the door after the door had been closed. "Are you alright?" She asked the girl, taking her wrists and examining the red chafe marks that matched her own.

"Yes." She said meekly, not looking up. Sarah helped her into a chair, pushing the food to her. She shook her head fervently. "I-I could not." She stammered.

Sarah thought about her accent for a moment. "Harad?" She asked. The girl nodded. She wet her lips. "What is your name?" She asked.

The girl looked surprised, then answered. "I am Zia." She said.

"Well then, Zia." She smiled. "I order you to eat."

"You are not hungry?" She asked warily.

Her face flashed a moment, and she gently touched one of the bruises on her cheeks. "I can't possibly eat right now." She said. Zia nodded, then took the fruit and hesitantly bit into it. Sarah watched her with a slight smile. "My name is Sarah." She said. "I'm from Gondor, but apparently I'll be staying here for quite a long time."

Zia looked surprised. "Why?" She blurted out before remembering cordial manners and ducking her head down. "Why are you kind to me?" She asked instead. "I am your prisoner, your slave, and yet you feed me and talk to me like your equal."

She sighed. "Because I am a prisoner too." She said softly. "I was going to be married to my friend, and I went out on a hunt alone. You know, to clear my mind. Then Soromir kidnapped me and…" She wet her lips and motioned to the bruises on her face.

Zia looked horrified. "How-? Why-?" She stammered. "A marriage is something to rejoice about! Why would he-?"

"I don't know. What I do know is that he's keeping me here and will never allow me to leave." Zia nodded and bowed her head to hide her sympathetic expression. "You said you were from Harad. What about you, what's your story?"

Zia looked confused. "You do not know yet?" She asked. Sarah slowly shook her head. "The other day, the entire royal family was assassinated, as were all of those who could have a claim for the throne. Masked men took the throne, proclaiming themselves Servants of the High Lord. They threw the Gondorian ambassador out of the borders and made us bow and proclaim allegiance to the 'High Lord'. Anyone who refused was enslaved." She lowered her voice. "A request was sent for a young girl of about eighteen years. I just turned eighteen. They took me from my home and sent me here."

She frowned. "Harad's been taken over?"

"Yes."

She sighed and leaned back into the chair, rubbing her forehead. "Two guesses as to who this High Lord is." She muttered to herself. "Fucking bastard. I should have killed him years ago."

Zia looked confused again. "What?"

She smiled and leaned forward, a bit of her old mischief back in her eye. "Well you see, we met quite a while ago. It's a rather long story, really…"

.

Soromir silently walked down the hall to the heavy door not far from his own. He heard laughter on the other side and frowned. He motioned the guards away and opened the door almost silently. He raised his eyebrows at the sight he saw.

Sarah was leaning forward in her chair, animatedly motioning before her as she told a story to the new slave girl. She was grinning like a fool and laughing at the end of every other word.

"And _then!_ Oh my God, then – _then_ he just, _grabs_ this guard's sword and starts running off down the hall like a fucking moron!" She closed her eyes and leaned back in the chair, one hand covering her eyes as she laughed. "I swear, it was _hilarious!_"

A soft smile crept across his face, and he closed the door before going back to his own room.


End file.
